Unlikely 2.0


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Editors' Notes

Maria Damon and Michelle Greenblatt
Jim Leftwich and Michelle Greenblatt
Sheila E. Murphy and Michelle Greenblatt

A Visual Conversation on Michelle Greenblatt's ASHES AND SEEDS with Stephen Harrison, Monika Mori | MOO, Jonathan Penton and Michelle Greenblatt

Letters for Michelle: with work by Jukka-Pekka Kervinen, Jeffrey Side, Larry Goodell, mark hartenbach, Charles J. Butler, Alexandria Bryan and Brian Kovich

Visual Poetry by Reed Altemus
Poetry by Glen Armstrong
Poetry by Lana Bella
A Eulogic Poem by John M. Bennett
Elegic Poetry by John M. Bennett
Poetry by Wendy Taylor Carlisle
A Eulogy by Vincent A. Cellucci
Poetry by Vincent A. Cellucci
Poetry by Joel Chace
A Spoken Word Poem and Visual Art by K.R. Copeland
A Eulogy by Alan Fyfe
Poetry by Win Harms
Poetry by Carolyn Hembree
Poetry by Cindy Hochman
A Eulogy by Steffen Horstmann
A Eulogic Poem by Dylan Krieger
An Elegic Poem by Dylan Krieger
Visual Art by Donna Kuhn
Poetry by Louise Landes Levi
Poetry by Jim Lineberger
Poetry by Dennis Mahagin
Poetry by Peter Marra
A Eulogy by Frankie Metro
A Song by Alexis Moon and Jonathan Penton
Poetry by Jay Passer
A Eulogy by Jonathan Penton
Visual Poetry by Anne Elezabeth Pluto and Bryson Dean-Gauthier
Visual Art by Marthe Reed
A Eulogy by Gabriel Ricard
Poetry by Alison Ross
A Short Movie by Bernd Sauermann
Poetry by Christopher Shipman
A Spoken Word Poem by Larissa Shmailo
A Eulogic Poem by Jay Sizemore
Elegic Poetry by Jay Sizemore
Poetry by Felino A. Soriano
Visual Art by Jamie Stoneman
Poetry by Ray Succre
Poetry by Yuriy Tarnawsky
A Song by Marc Vincenz


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Three Poems by Omar Azam

art is a sublimated insurgency

If you find someone
to frame that turd
you made on the pillowcase
consider yourself lucky

cause we live in a society
that puts blood red hearts
on the chopping block
puts real good art
on a pedestal




Writer's Heartburn

Today's clamjuice rises like an
old friend, morning, noon, evening,
and night, progress takes on a
promise and a pretense.

Winding staircases of publicity
and pens demonstrate their love
for all to steal, pretty girls
+ financiers, bending down to
glimpse the indefiniteness of
your flimsy follicles.

Children with cradles stolen,
the pink and white flesh of roam,
the silence of music, too many
dreams devalued and ugly words
swallowed, a daydream in sand.

Still the rhythm pushes me to
assimilation but my bones creak
with your pitter patter on wooden
floors, your starry determination
opens a direct door and we are
in a library of musing.




circle

we were all born
unknowing of facts
of what is what
and which is which
and who is who

knowing only what is right
what is free
what is love

and as we age
we pretend we have always known
what we have learned

and look down on those whose paths
stop short of ours
or go askew
or leap ahead

and as we age
we forget the truth
that was born with breath
that speaks without words
and rules without logic.


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Omar says, "I live in Chicago with my family where I work as a computer programmer. My aim with poetry is to liberate words from the shackles of intentional meaning and reclaim the beauty of phrases and spontaneous revelation. I also write songs and sing them."


Comments (closed)

Hina
2010-03-04 08:04:51

Go Omar! I'm so proud of you! Thank you for reminding us of the things we forget that are intrinsic to ourselves, and of the things we take as our own that are often entirely artificial.

Nina Ulana
2010-03-05 05:07:48

Thank you for letting me know about this publication - and for your inspiration!